The Colours will Change
by omeceela
Summary: Before, and After. A light character study - what different colours mean to Harry and how they change. "The colours grow and change as the painting grows and changes" - Carol Ann Schrader. Please R&R.
1. I Red

i.  
Although he knows that he should think of Number 4, Privet Drive as home, home is where the heart is, and walking into the red and gold common room, Harry realised that this was what coming home truly felt around at the squashy red armchairs and the bright red tapestries scattered around the common room, Harry felt his shoulders finally loosen as he allowed Ron and Hermione lead him towards their chairs by the roaring fireplace.

It was in this room, in all its red splendour where Harry learnt the true meaning of family. He was surrounded by the bright Gryffindor red when he first learnt to play chess with Ron, when he rushed his potions essays, and when he listened to his two best friends bicker and laugh together as they grew up, side by side.

Red meant house pride, red meant comfort, and red meant home.

* * *

ii.  
It was chaos.

People were screaming, they were crying, shouting, laughing as spells were thrown around, as bodies fell to the ground or moved onto their next opponent, momentarily victorious in their battles. With Hogwarts as the backdrop, Harry watched as a student fired a red disarming spell at a cackling figure in black, only to be hit by the sickly red of the cruciatus, _screaming_ , thrashing in jerky movements, until her torturer finally moved on to fire that ugly red at another defender of Hogwarts.

The ground was stained with the dark red of blood, bodies of death eaters and teachers and aurors and students alike strewn across the lawn, and wasn't it funny, Harry idly thought, that he couldn't tell the difference between the pure blood of the death eaters and the 'dirty' blood of all the half bloods and muggleborns, when it was spilt onto the ground.

When Harry finally stood opposite Voldemort, staring into those deadly bright red eyes, he knew that this was his only chance of stopping him, of ending the war and making sure that the grass of Hogwarts would never be stained red again.

After it was all over, he didn't think he ever wanted to see the red of pain, suffering, and death ever again.


	2. II Orange

i.  
The first time Harry ever really noticed the colour orange was when he saw 6 people with hair the brightest orange he had ever seen walking through King's Cross Station.

He had seen orange before, of course; the orange of the juice he wasn't allowed to taste, the orange of the Surrey sky when he was forced to wait outside until it faded.  
To the day he died, the only time Harry ever saw that colour was when it was on the head of a Weasley.

Some time in the middle of their first year, following another one of Draco's taunts, Harry briefly mentioned the muggles he'd seen with orange hair.  
Ron laughed in amusement before he said to him "I've seen that hair they call orange once, it's no where as close to ours! When we were little, mum used to tell us the story of why our hair is the colour of fire. She said that long ago, when dragons were still allowed to roam freely, one of the first Weasley's got lost as a child, and was found by a dragon. Instead of eating him, the dragon raised the boy as her own, and breathed fire onto his hair to tell all the other dragons to leave him alone! It's why Charlie's so obsessed with 'em, he wants to be just like the boy and make his own family of dragons." And for the first time that year, Ron looked proud instead of ashamed of the hair that marked him as a Weasley.

Over his next few years at Hogwarts, Harry came to relate orange not as the colour of the ugly sweaters handed to him by the Dursley's, but as the colour of a boisterous, loving family who gave him an understanding of what it was like to have a family.

Orange was tight hugs, practical jokes, loyalty, and family.

* * *

ii.  
It was so _hot._

Running for his life, Harry could feel the scorching heat of the fiendfyre licking at his feet, the roaring of the flaming creatures drowning out the panicked shouts of the teens dodging the deadly orange heat.

Hearing the thin, agonised scream of Crabbe as he was consumed by his own flames, Harry's fear choked him, and when he saw Malfoy trapped, with the limp body of Goyle cradled in his arms, he flew to their rescue because he didn't want to leave them to die.

But what he would never mention when people brought up his saving of the enemy after everything was over, was that he also saved them because he never wanted to hear the haunting scream of anyone being consumed by the ugly orange of cursed flames ever again.

* * *

A/N:  
There'll be 2 or 3 more chapters based on the some other colours, and the last chapter will have a pairing :)  
Please leave a review; criticism is welcome!


	3. III Green

i.  
Aunt Petunia never talked about his mother. He didn't know if he got her eyes, or her nose, or her smile, or if she had been short and skinny too. Somehow, he doubted he got her hair because it was so dark and messy he'd imagine a woman would have gone crazy trying to deal with it - he knew his Aunt sometimes did.

But when he entered the wizarding world, and everyone would tell him 'You have your mother's eyes', he clung to that, because it was the first piece of his mother he ever received. Looking into the mirror, he would sometimes stare at his eyes and try to imagine the pair looking back belonged to a woman with flaming red hair and a brave, bright smile.  
People always talked about his father, how he was tall, charming, and excellent at quidditch, and 'you look so like your father' Sirius had said, and added 'Except your eyes' as an after thought, as though it was less important, as if _his mother_ was less important.

It was Professor Lupin, though, who had loved his parents equally and would tell him about both; he may have had his father's face, but he grinned like his mother, happy and mischievous; his father loved chocolate ice cream over anything, but you're just like your mother Harry, she couldn't get enough vanilla ice cream either.

Harry had his mother's eyes, bright green, mischievous and kind, everyone knew that, but what people didn't know, and what he held close to his heart was that he also had her nimble fingers, quick wit and deep ability to love.

* * *

ii.  
By the time he left Hogwarts, Harry's memories were so full of flashes of green and red and blue and yellow that he could almost forget that his earliest memory of the wizarding world was the sickly green spell that had ended his mother's life.

When Harry was younger, he didn't understand his nightmares about the brief flash of green and the trail of a woman's scream, but by the end of his third year, he finally understood that it wasn't a nightmare at all.

As Professor Moody sent the flash of blinding green light at the spider scuttling on the desk in front of him, as he saw the spider suddenly collapse as if it's strings had been cut loose, Harry briefly wondered if his parents had looked like that as they died; heavy and _silent_. What had it been like, he wondered, watching the sickly green light heading towards you, knowing your death was inevitable? Had they felt fear and regret, or were they brave till the very end, knowing that they were dying for the ones they loved?

It was only until he faced Voldemort at the very end, the hated green rushing towards him, that he realised you could feel both.

* * *

A/N:  
Sorry it's been a while, have had a busy few months and probably will continue to be busy for a while; I promise this isn't abandoned though.  
Please leave any review, criticism is always welcome :)


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